her
brougham, emerging from the evening mist, stopped in front of the house.
Nick stood there hanging back till she got out, allowing the servants
only to help her. She saw him--she was less veiled than his mental
vision of her; but this didn't prevent her pausing to give an order to
the coachman, a matter apparently requiring some discussion. When she
came to the door her visitor remarked that he had been waiting an
eternity; to which she replied that he must make no grievance of
that--she was too unwell to do him justice. He immediately professed
regret and sympathy, adding, however, that in that case she had much
better not have gone out. She made no answer to this--there were three
servants in the hall who looked as if they might understand at least
what was not said to them; only when he followed her in she asked if his
idea had been to stay longer.

"Certainly, if you're not too ill to see me."

"Come in then," Julia said, turning back after having gone to the foot
of the stairs.

This struck him immediately as a further restriction of his visit: she
wouldn't readmit him to the drawing-room or to her boudoir; she would
receive him in the impersonal apartment downstairs where she saw people
on business. What did she want to do to him? He was prepared by this
time for a scene of jealousy, since he was sure he had learned to read
her character justly in feeling that if she had the appearance of a cold
woman a forked flame in her was liable on occasion to break out. She was
very still, but from time to time she would fire off a pistol. As soon
as he had closed the door she said without sitting down:

"I daresay you saw I didn't like that at all."

"My having a sitter in that professional way? I was very much annoyed at
it myself," Nick answered.

"Why were _you_ annoyed? She's very handsome," Mrs. Dallow perversely
said.

"I didn't know you had looked at her!" Nick laughed.

Julia had a pause. "Was I very rude?"

"Oh it was all right; it was only awkward for me because you didn't
know," he replied.

"I did know; that's why I came."

"How do you mean? My letter couldn't have reached you."

"I don't know anything about your letter," Julia cast about her for a
chair and then seated herself on the edge of a sofa with her eyes on the
floor.

"She sat to me yesterday; she was there all the morning; but I didn't
write to tell you. I went at her with great energy and, absurd as it may
seem to you, found mys